


With Catlike Tread

by Masterweaver



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Get ready for shenanigans, Spoilers: Volume 6 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterweaver/pseuds/Masterweaver
Summary: Qrow and Oscar get into trouble on the way to Argus. It's up to team RWBY to break them out. Luckily, their new traveling companion has the perfect solution!It's a bit of a strange one, though.





	1. Page the First: What Ought We to Do?

****Ruby shut the door behind her, pinching her brow with a sigh. “Okay, it’s pretty bad.”

“Did you find them?”

“Yes. Apparently, Qrow got drunk  _again_ , and now he and Oscar are being held in jail. That’s not the big issue, though.” Ruby walked over to a chair and slumped into it. “They confiscated the relic.”

Yang blinked. “Sorry, did I hear that right? The Relic of Knowledge--”

“--was mistaken for something that the two ‘vagabonds’  _obviously_  stole from some rich guy, so now it’s in the police chief’s safe and it’s going to be moved to a more secure vault tomorrow. I tried to say it was a family heirloom, but they demanded proof and, well...” Ruby spread her hands. “I got kicked out.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.” Yang leaned against the wall and groaned. “That’s just great, that... what is wrong with the cops in this town?”

“The town’s called Keisatsukuso,” Weiss said dryly. “I’m somehow not surprised in the slightest.”

“What’s the town’s name got to do with anything?”

Blake cleared her throat. “Well... in the original tongue from which the name is derived, it translates--”

Ruby held up a hand. “Look, let’s just get to the point. We need to break out Qrow and Oscar, and we need to get the relic out of the police chief’s hands.” She gave Weiss a look. “I don’t suppose you have enough to bribe them out?”

“Hmm.” Her partner looked through a suitcase. “...Enough to pay bail for the boys, maybe. Not nearly enough to get a priceless artifact back.”

“Maybe you could say it belongs to the Schnees,” Blake suggested.

“I... don’t think that would work,” Ruby said hesitantly. “I saw some pretty foul anti-Schnee graffiti on the side of the police station... it looked a couple weeks old. If they didn’t get rid of that...”

A dry chuckle came from the hall. “So, the old wizard got himself in trouble, eh?”

Yang turned her eyes on the hunched over woman hobbling into the room. “Hey, just because you knew him before he was Ozpin--”

“Let’s not start this up,” Weiss sighed. “Miss Calavera--”

“Call me Maria, please.”

“Miss Calavera,” Weiss repeated firmly, “we need to get Qrow, Oscar, and the relic out of police hands. If you have any suggestions at all, we would be happy to hear them.”

The old woman hummed thoughtfully, a finger tapping on her skull-headed cane. “Yes... somebody to get into a fortified position, retrieve one item, and break out two targets... and the police here are, hmm, well trained and armed. The way I see it, overwhelming force is not going to work, not that you have that anyway. But... if somebody were to slip in and liberate the targets themselves, we might be able to slip away under cover of night.”

Blake shook her head. “You said it yourself, the police are trained and armed. I’ve... been on a few missions like this myself, and I think they’d be ready for any of us.”

“Humans and faunus, yes...” The old woman had an unnerving smile on her face as her goggles focused on Blake. “Have you ever heard the story of the lost village?”

Ruby put her head in her hands. “This is going to be another one of those ‘fairy tales that turn out to be true,’ isn’t it?”

“Well, yes. Don’t blame the wizard for not telling you, it hasn't been relevant before and it could do quite a bit of damage if the story was well known.” The woman hobbled over to the table, pulling a mortar and pestle out of her robes. “There’s quite a number of variants, of course, but the core elements are the same: there was a village that befriended fairies in the local forest, so when they were attacked by raiders they turned to the fairies for help. The fairies let them take traits from the various animals living in the forest, which helped the villagers to survive even after they were scattered.”

“...You’re talking about the faunus,” Blake said, quietly.

“Yes. People who know... part of the story, who see the blessing as a curse, they’ve tried to ‘cure’ faunus before. Burned off their ears, cut off their tails...” The woman shook her head, putting a few herbs in the mortar. “It is best that particular story remain forgotten. Still, for our purposes, it does provide us with a unique opportunity.”

Yang narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“There’s magic in your young lady’s blood. It’s mostly dormant, but with the right potion...” The woman smirked as she worked her pestle. “Well, the guards won’t be looking for something small and furry.”

For a brief moment, the only sound was ceramic against ceramic as the woman continued to crush together small plants.

“...Are you suggesting we turn Blake into a cat?” Weiss asked, very carefully keeping her voice level.

“Well, I am skilled in enchantments. What with being a hedge witch and all.”

Yang shook her head. “No. No, we’re not letting you put your voodoo on Blake.”

The old woman smiled wryly at her. “Technically, it isn’t voodoo.”

“Whatever! I mean, what, turning her into a cat just to get a doodad? That’s an insane idea.”

“I’m... not comfortable with it myself,” Blake allowed.

“See?”

“...but...”

Yang stared at her incredulously. “What, seriously Blake?”

“I want to know what exactly this would entail before I reject it completely. That’s all. And...” Blake rubbed her arm, not quite looking at her. “I mean... faunus heritage, right...?”

“Faunus... I...” The blonde’s mouth worked for a bit as she tried to figure out a way to say what she was thinking without offending anyone. “...Ruby! Come on, you’re against this, right?”

“I’m sorry, I know this is a serious discussion, but my brain is stuck on ‘Blake as a cat would be adorable.’“

Weiss shrugged. “I mean... you’re not wrong, but that shouldn’t be the primary reason we do this.”

“Oh, obviously. And we’d need Blake’s consent, of course.”

“And already you two have more ethical standards then three quarters of enchanters in fairy tales.” The old woman chuckled wryly. “Don’t worry, it’s certainly not permanent. Three hours, three hours and fifteen minutes... somewhere in that time frame.”

Blake took a breath. “And are there... side effects?”

“Oh my gods,” Yang groaned, “we’re actually considering this.”

“Not at all. Well, as a cat your senses would be altered, of course--balance, scent, vision, all of that--but beyond that, there’s usually only a mild sense of disorientation following the transformation from faunus to cat, and vice versa.”

“Wait.” Yang held up a hand. “What do you mean,  _usually?”_

The old woman hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen it happen myself, but the texts I learned this potion from have mentioned that some faunus come out of the transformation with an additional trait. A tail, claws, it’s not very common.”

Blake turned, pacing around the room. One finger wrapped around her chin, while the other hand rubbed her ear.

Yang took a breath. “Look. There are more mundane, far less heavy body-modifying options. Ruby could zip through the building and take what she wants. Weiss could send a tiny summon in to sneak around. Blake already has the ability to basically ninja anywhere, and I...” She glanced down at herself. “I don’t know, maybe I can seduce the guards or something.”

“I’m doing it.”

Yang’s eyes snapped to Blake. “What?”

“I’ll take the potion. It’s something the police wouldn’t have been trained for, so it’s our best bet to get everything we need.” Blake cleared her throat. “And, if I get caught, somebody could always come in and claim they ‘lost their pet cat.’ Easy extraction.”

“I mean, they’ve seen Ruby and I’m famous,” Weiss mused, “so it would have to be Yang...”

Blake nodded firmly. “Right. So... I’ll take that potion. I mean after we make a plan. Ruby, you’ve got an outline of the building, right?”

“Right, of course.” Ruby stood up, pulling out her scroll. “I wasn’t on the second floor, but that’s where the relic is, I think.”

“It would be best if the rest of us were waiting outside, just in case we needed to help.” Weiss leaned over Ruby’s shoulder. “Patrol around the windows, in case she needs to jump...”

Yang pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, we’re actually doing this. Fine.”

She paused.

“And for the record, she is not  _my_  young lady, alright? She’s her  _own_  young lady. Okay, granny?”

The old woman nodded. “Of course, of course.”


	2. Page the Second: Climbing over Rocky Mountain

 

“There’s the vent,” Weiss whispered. She stepped forward, but paused for a moment and glanced down beside her. “Do you… do you need a boost?”

The black and white feline at her ankles looked up at the wall, before shaking her head.

“I mean, if you want to jump off my shoulders, or… my head, I’m quite able to serve as–”

“Mmrroorr.”

“…I suppose you would know,” Weiss conceded.

She drew her blade, glancing around carefully, before reaching out and tapping the point against the whirling fan. The blades stopped spinning with a scrape, struggling against the small black glyph in the center.

“Alright, Blake, your show now. Good luck.”

“Mrrr.” The feline eyed the vent, shifting on her haunches, and sprang up. Her claws caught the metal easily and she pulled herself in, careful not to let the purple bandana tied round her throat get caught on anything. Her rear paws pushed against the fan blades soon after, the white tip of her tail slinking into the chute seconds later.

Weiss waited for a minute, glanced around warily, and canceled the glyph. She started off to the rendezvous point, but halted when a particular scribbling on a wall caught her eye.

“…’Jacques Schnee can go…’ Oh. Hmm.” Her head tilted. “Well, that… Ruby was right, that  _is_  foul. And yet… surprisingly creative.”

Her gaze drifted downward to an abandoned can of spray paint.

Blake, meanwhile, shuffled forward through the metal tunnel, her golden eyes adjusting quickly to the near dark. Her whiskers twitched when the air started flowing again–and she blinked, peering at her own nose for a moment. Then she shook her head, doubletiming it down the shaft.

Soon enough, the feline reached her first obstacle–the grate at the end of the vent. Fortunately enough the gaps between the metal were just large enough for her to stick her paw through. Blake took a moment to peer out carefully, eyeing along the grate’s edge, before reaching out and pushing at a tiny lever.

It took some delicate maneuvering, but she did manage to catch it and switch it open. One quick shove later and she was inside, at the feet of a small collection of desks. She darted to the nearest one and crouched low, examining the room from beneath the furniture; only when she had confirmed the lack of feet did she emerge, a breath of relief escaping her muzzle.

The door Blake trotted up to gave her pause. Her eyes focused on the knob, only a small distance above her, glimmering in the moonlight. She sat back on her haunches, raising her white forepaws to her face; claws sheathed and unsheathed as she examined them minutely, before looking back at the golden metal.

“…Rrrmuurrr.”

Her body stretched out as she reached up, paws not quite underneath the doorknob at her greatest length. Blake’s tail swished as she sat back down, narrowing her eyes at the silent challenger; she stood up and took a few steps back, bracing her shoulders as she crouched low. Tension built along her spine for a moment, one rear paw sliding backward–and then she lunged forward, pouncing toward the shimmering device and grasping it between her forepaws.

The end result, of course, was that she was hanging a few inches above the ground.

Blake rolled her shoulders gently, one way, then another. Her forepaws clutched at the knob carefully, even as she started swinging her body. The knob resisted valiantly, trying to make her tenuous grip slip; her lips pulled back fiercely as she concentrated, each twitch of her limbs calculated to bring the device under her control.

In less than a minute, she had achieved what prior to tonight would have taken her less than a second: Opening a door. She dropped to the ground, lidding her eyes at the doorknob smugly.

After a moment, though, her eyes went wide, and she brought her paw to her face with a murmur of exasperation.

A few minutes later, Blake was carefully moving through the halls of the police station, ears twitching at every scrap of conversation that floated by. They snapped upright at the sound of approaching footsteps, and she spun her head around to see the shadow of a man around a corner. Her eyes darted around, quickly landing on a decorative vase of some sort; she shot behind it just as a man in a well-tailored uniform walked by.

“Wash the dishes Thanh! Feed the prisoners Thanh! Take out the garbage Thanh!” The man growled as he passed by, adjusting the tray in his hands. “You know chief, maybe I could be better suited out there hunting those faunus-loving vagabonds, maybe I could help bring justice, but noooo it’s always menial work and ‘you don’t have the eye to spot criminals’ and blah, blah, blah. I mean, come on, I knew those hobos were bad news, right?”

Blake stared at him from behind the vase, wide-eyed with her tail swishing.

“And why are we even feeding them, anyway? Waste of resources. If we really want to get anything out of them, we’ll force them to get a job. Like, I don’t know, mining or something.”

The fur on Blake’s tail bristled, and she unsheathed her claws for a moment. But her eyes focused on the tray, and the loaded plates upon them, and she took a steadying breath. Silent paws padded after the man, ears folded flat against her head as she walked in lockstep after the grumbling man.

To her good fortune, she didn’t have to endure his annoyed grumbling very long. He stomped through a door, leaving it open as he walked up to a cell. “Hey, you two! Dinner. Don’t waste it, I’m coming back for the tray in thirty minutes.”

“Sounds great,” replied a dry raspy voice. “Hey, about my weapon–”

“ _Your_  weapon? Do you expect me to believe a slob like you could ever be a huntsman?” The man snorted, not noticing Blake rush in and hop through the bars to another cell. “You’re building up a whole list of charges for your trial, hobo. Maybe you should just shut your trap.”

“Right. Well, thanks for the water anyway.”

“Hmph.” Blake watched the man spin about, storming back out the door and slamming it behind him.

“You shouldn’t have drunk so much,” grumbled a much younger voice.

“You’re probably right. This headache is killing me.”

Blake pushed herself out of the bars, walking down to the cell the voices were coming from.

“This entire situation is… subpar,” admitted a third voice, one more refined than the other two. “There are few options I can think of that would get us all out of here, and even fewer that have us regain the relic. Most of those would require attracting unwanted attention–”

“Mrrrooooooowwwrrrr!”

The two people in the cell blinked, turning to look at the feline standing primly outside of it.

“…What?” Qrow furrowed his brow. “What’s with the cat?”

“My word….” Ozpin leaned forward. “Miss Belladonna?”

Blake nodded. “Mrrr.”

“Well… that is a bold choice.”

“Hold on, what?” Qrow sat up. “You saying that’s Blake?”

“Yes. I don’t know how she figured this out–but it doesn’t matter right now. We can ask her later.” Ozpin turned back to her. “I take it Ruby informed you of the situation?”

Blake nodded again, working her way through the bars and sitting down. She turned her head around, poking at the bandana around her neck.

“What, did you smuggle in a set of lockpicks?” Qrow shook his head. “I’m talking to a cat.”

“And you can turn into a raven,” Oscar pointed out, pulling a small pouch from underneath the purple fabric.

“Wha–I turn into a crow!”

“No, I learned that on the farm. Crows are smaller and caw, ravens are fluffier and they croak.”

“I, ah…” Ozpin cleared his throat. “I never actually told him about that.”

Qrow blinked for a moment or two. Then he shook his head. “I’m too hungover for this.”

 


	3. Page the Third: When a Felon’s Not Engaged in His Employment

****"You _don’t_  know how to pick a lock?” Oscar asked, his eyes wide.

“I was a bandit before I came to Beacon. Our lockpicking method was to break the door down.” Qrow shrugged. “And after, well, I figured... birds don’t need to pick locks, right?”

Blake dragged a paw down her face. “Rrrrrrrmmmmmmmm...”

“Oh, give it here.” Ozpin took the small bits of metal, wrapping his hands around the bars and working them through the keyhole.

“Wait, what?”

“I’ve lived a fairly long time. Some of my previous hosts had more respect for people than the law.” With a click, the door swung open. “Most of them, actually, but a few were more proactive about it.”

“Right.” Qrow shook his head as he stepped out. “Let’s focus on what we need to do. Get your cane, my sword, and the relic, and get out of here.”

Oscar nodded. “Right. Blake, can you tell us if team RWBY’s got anything planned?”

Blake leveled a flat stare at him.

“...Oh. Yes. You’ve been... I mean, cats can make a lot of noises,” Oscar pointed out. “We had a cat back on the farm, she was talkative...”

He trailed off at her unchanging expression.

“Okay, let me take over.” Qrow pushed him aside. “Do the girls know you’re a cat?”

“Mrow,” Blake confirmed with a nod.

“Do you know where the relic is?”

Blake held up a paw and waggled it around chest height. “Mrrrmr...?”

Qrow sighed. “Is it at least in the building?”

“Mrow.”

“That’s some good news... What about the girls, are they nearby?”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Mrow.”

“Probably waiting for us to get out,” Ozpin mused.

“Mrow.” Blake flicked her tail, glancing toward the door. “Mrrrruu?”

“Right, yes, we don’t have much time.” Ozpin turned to the other man. “Qrow, can you transform right now?”

“Ugh... yes, but I don’t know how much help that will be.”

“Oscar is fairly small, so we should be able to sneak around easily enough. Miss Belladonna would be better but as she is, doors might be a bit of a hindrance.”

“Mrow,” Blake grumbled.

“You can stick close to her and switch back to human to handle that sort of issue if it arises. A raven and a cat might attract more attention together than alone, but they’d be harder to spot in the first place. If we split up, we should be able to locate our weapons and the relic that much faster.”

Qrow nodded. “Alright, fine. But if you’re spotted, break out--we’ll make sure to get everything you didn’t pick up.”

“...Right.” Oscar nodded. “We’ll do that.”

He strode toward the door, putting an ear against it for a few seconds. Qrow shrunk down with a beleaguered floorf, joining Blake at the boy’s feet. Carefully, a gloved hand reached for the knob; Oscar peered through the crack, sliding through as Qrow and Blake jumped out, and shut the door behind him.

“Alright. You go that way, I’ll go this way. Keep your eyes out, and on each other.”

“Mror.”

“Raawk.”

Oscar stared at them for a second. “...I’m sorry, I just had one of those ‘this is actually happening’ moments. Anyway, good luck.”

The trio split up, one sneaking down a hallway while the other moved swiftly toward the stairs. Blake rushed past doors, her eyes on the signs next to them, before she skidded to a stop at a set of stairs. “Mrrwrr!”

“Rrrk?” Qrow flapped his wings, turning in midair as the feline started bounding up two steps at a time.

“Mwrrrr--” Blake rolled her eyes, gesturing up with a paw. “Muow.”

The bird fluttered to a stop on the railing. “Raark.”

“Mrooow!”

“Rrrarrrak?”

The two of them stared at each other for a brief moment.

Blake let out a huff, turning away and continuing up the stairs. Her ear twitched at a brief flutter, and she glanced up to see Qrow gliding after her. There was an odd crook to his beak, something that might have been called a smile on a more human face. Or perhaps a smirk. She turned away as they came to the top of the stairs, having no difficulty keeping her own expression stoic.

On soft wings and soft paws did the pair travel through the halls, their eyes darting across the signs on every door as they passed. Every once in a while, Qrow would shift back to his human form and open a door quickly; Blake darted between his feet and searched high and low while he listened for footsteps coming down the hall. A few times they stayed in a room for minutes at a time, her ears twitching as he leaned against the wood; once he had quickly signaled her behind the door, shifting back into a bird just as it swung open, the both of them only just escaping the notice of the officer bringing in a large stack of paperwork.

Blake’s tail twitched as they came to a turn in the hall, eyes shifting around carefully. “Mrrr....”

“Rwwwwak,” Qrow agreed.

“Oh for the love of all things legal!”

Avian and feline eyes snapped to a pair of shadows on the wall, before Blake and Qrow darted apart. The raven roosted atop a hanging light while the cat pressed herself against a door, just managing to stay out of sight as two officers turned the corner.

“I know, right? I mean, sure, the original graffiti was... hilariously over the top, but whoever this new guy is has a strange sense of humor.”

“‘Weiss Schnee approves of this message--’ yeah, right, like she would ever be anywhere near here.”

“Yeah... a random village in Anima? We’re not exactly high priority.”

“She’s probably still up in Atlas, cavorting with the harem of musclebound huntsmen her father bought her.”

Blake managed to contain her outburst, just barely. It helped that the other officer had released a disbelieving laugh.

“Right. Forgot who I was talking to for a moment.”

“Look, I know there are rumors, but all I’m saying is that Weiss is straight. Now her little sister,  _she’s_  the gay one--”

The officer cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Look, Thanh, as... elucidating as your conspiracy theories are, I’m kind of worn out at the moment. All I need is a little help in the contraband room, alright? Then you can go back to... what were you assigned today?”

“Prisoner duty,” grumbled the man.

“Right, watching the farmboy and his uncle.”

“They're hobos.”

“Of course they are. Come on, those confiscated weapons aren’t going to shine themselves.”

The pair of policemen continued down the hall, entirely unaware of the cat and the raven following after them. Blake caught sight of a nearby clock--two and a half hours left. Hopefully, things would go off without a hitch.

Hopefully.


End file.
